


Your Heartbeat is My Alarm

by Savorysavery



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Complete, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 18:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17350718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorysavery/pseuds/Savorysavery
Summary: A look into three seperate morning moments between Tsumiki Mikan and Chiaki Nanami on Jabberwocky Island. Pure fluff because why not?





	1. May 12, 2023

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in on go, fuelled by the dregs of airplane sleep and a desire to rock myself back to bed for at least 3.5 hours. Pardon any mistakes: I'm really too tired to be writing, but something in me just felt I had to.

Tsumiki Mikan is the first to wake up, but that's not unusual, especially after years of learning Nanami Chiaki's sleeping habits.

 

After first, it was Mikan who kept to dreaming: her twenties were riddled with nightmares that sucked and tugged, yanking her into the gummy pit of her own fears and the terror that only trauma can breed. It took years to overcome, to learn how to cope with her abuse: how to  _ still _ cope, really.

 

But Mikan still remembers the first night of easy dreams, of satisfying sleep and soft snores: hyper-saturated dreams gone, leaving simple musings behind. Somehow, that makes things understandable, though not okay.

 

Meanwhile, Chiaki had  _ always _ loved sleep. From the first day that Hajime had worked with Kamakura to merge her AI into a fully realized body, Chiaki longed for sleep. In those first years, her work as the World Heart Interface -and certainly the Former Ultimate Gamer- had kept her up: she was constantly monitoring her friends, guiding them through the trauma of her still real death and into a future that was brighter and filled with genuine hope. 

 

That hope meant long hours, largely because Chiaki didn't need to sleep: it meant lonely nights too, until Mikan learned how to change Day for Night for a while, just to give Chiaki the company.

 

But now...

 

Chiaki had learned to love sleep again, and despite her programming pushing for efficiency and constantly motion, here she lays as her body synthesizes a small puddle of drool on her pillow that let's Mikan know it'll be a few more hours before Chiaki wakes. And Mikan let's her: even androids need to dream of electric sheep. Mikan suspects Chiaki's are pixelated, baying 32-bite cries in a digitized field.

 

Nanami Chiaki is beautiful like this: the nodes beneath her plush skin pulse heat, flushing her cheeks even in synthesized dreams. Her hair -fine as silk strands- musses up as she tosses from side to side, fighting the urge to wake up. She fights and wins: it's only moments before her body flexes, heaving out a satisfied purr of a sigh as Chiaki nestles closer to Mikan, pressing her round nose into her shoulder.

 

It easy, thus, for Mikan's hand to twitch and cup Chiaki's cheek and run her thumb over the corner of her lips. It's easy to feel her own heartbeat pick up, to feel the bloom of affection in her belly.

 

To accidentally wake her wife up because her biorhythmics betray her.

 

"Happy Birthday, Mi-chan," Chiaki whispers, tongue heavy with sleep. "Are you good?"

 

"Very," Mikan whispers, and she feels her cheeks heat up. As much as her personality had been changed and warped and changed all again, she still finds embarrassment a bit of a home. But this isn't  _ bad _ : no, it's so good, and Mikan wishes she could wrap herself up in the feeling. "Just thinking, but very good."

 

"Good," Chiaki breathes, and she yawns, eyes tearing up at the corners. "My special girl should always feel  _ very _ good on her birthday." Chiaki's nose wrinkles up as she yawns again. "Happy Birthday, Mikan. Or did I already say that?"

 

Mikan giggles softly, shoulders shaking a bit. "Yes, you just did. Did you forget?"

 

"Sleepy," Chiaki replies. Her pink eyes flash for a moment before she tugs them back down, a gentle smile filling out her lips. "More rest, Birthday Girl?" Chiaki is already shifting so that she can hold Mikan. Mikan really likes that: Chiaki's arms feel like safest haven, armor on her good days and shelter on the worst.

  
_ More _ , Mikan thinks, because why not? The world is okay, and today, Mikan knows she is too. Without replying, she tucks in, nestling her head on Chiaki's plush shoulder, eager to join in dreaming.


	2. March 14, 2026

Birthdays lose a lot of meaning when you know you'll be capable of existing forever.

 

And, well, when You -as you and the entire world knows it- is technically _ dead _ .

 

It's something of a silent struggle for Nanami Chiaki, one that her vast libraries and data stores can't quite explain. She is She: existing in a body that churns and sparks and moves like all of her friends on the island, but She is also not Nanami Chiaki: she's never worn a Hope's Peak uniform. She's never held her old consoles or Hajime's hand or her own innards wrapped around a spear. Those are the memories of Chiaki Nanami, member of the 77th Class.

 

And Chiaki is not that Nanami.

 

She's not even sure this is her birthday, which naturally has her up, shifting the bed so much that Mikan is dragged from sleep, forgetting instantly about the pleasant fog that had wrapped about her shoulders. "Chi-chan?" she whispers, voice a bit high: it's always highest when she's a bit vulnerable, right after waking. "Okay?"

 

"Ah, just having an existential crisis," Chiaki comments flatly. She chides herself for coming off so rudely, but she's not in a particularly good mood.

 

"I understand that," Mikan replies softly, shifting onto her belly, and Chiaki knows she does: Mikan's been through the wringer and back, and still has her bad days almost a decade and a half later. "Do you want me to listen? I promise I'm not going to fall asleep."

 

"Yeah, but not for too long."

 

"Long enough?"

 

"Yes." And so they talk: well, Chiaki talks with Mikan peppering small, sleepy noises so that she knows she heard, which is something those other Chiaki's didn't have. They don't know the feeling of Mikan's hand. They've never seen how excited she gets at data entry or when she's able to see one of the Foundation's kids for a check up. Those Chiaki's don't know the feeling of Mikan's mouth, have never tasted wanted and desire and desperation -always, after Chiaki's been on a mission- and certainly, they don't know how a relationship with more love than love-making -sex is neither of their things- and how that  _ feels _ .

 

But what Nanami Chiaki  _ does _ know is that there are years that aren't hers: there's time that she's borrowed because it would fade otherwise, and  _ that's _ what has her up.

 

"Is this even  _ my  _ birthday?" is where Chiaki sums things up. She casts her pink glance to the side, then tucks up into a ball, knees just so so she can curl and rest her chin in the dip between. "I mean, do… do I even  _ exist _ like Me before? Or am I just…"  _ Fake. _

 

"Yes." Chiaki's eyebrows raise a small bit, then furrow. "You exist because you're here," Mikan replies simply. "Isn't that enough, right now, to prove you're real, Chi-chan?"

 

And it kind of is.

 

It's not a  _ perfect _ solution because honestly, how can there be perfection when you've burned the world? How can there be  _ perfection _ when you've died twice for this world's iniquities, only to be revive to heal the same place that hurt you? There can't be, and that's okay sometimes, and Chiaki realizes it sitting here, half-awake and half-inside her own head.

 

She can settle for that, for right now: only because she knows it will be better.

 

"I know it's early, but I made you cake. Well… Hanamura-kun made you cake and then he helped me decorate it." Mikan feels suddenly bashful with the next admission: "Well, I directed him, if I can be honest." She still had her penchant for tripping into inopportune situations, though it was now a matter of learned clumsiness over anything else.

 

Chiaki's shoulders shake as the fog of a heavy minds lifts, and she finds breathing easier amidst mutual laughter. She tunes into the whirring of her body -almost silent, save to her ears- and let's that soothe her before she continues their conversation.

 

"Cake, then: you still made it for me, and I bet it's great," she declares "But in bed: that always seems like the perfect way to start a birthday."

 

"As you wish, Birthday Girl" Mikan replies, leaning in for a sleep-laden kiss.


End file.
